


In Denial, Maybe

by houohken



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Degradation, Denial, Futanari, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houohken/pseuds/houohken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It becomes apparent to Yosuke that there's a reason most of his friends are boys, and that he's never had a girlfriend. He knows what that reason is, but refuses to accept it, even as he sits in class and imagines his female classmates in certain situations as a means to get around it; when he tries to apply the same situation to his partner in his head, and realizes it's not the same for a multitude of reasons, he sees himself with no choice other than to consult Kanji, the only one he'd know to have any sort of experience with this particular problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Denial, Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first actual fic i've written in a while, so sorry if it's too long or something. i don't have anything real to say other than i knew him as souji before he became yu, and also that i specifically tagged this with "futanaris" instead of transsexuals because it's purely a sexual fantasy for yosuke. i might write another chapter or another part to this idk

Even when he was a kid, when he was young, most of Yosuke’s friends were boys. He was the kind of boy growing up that thought girls were icky, and had cooties, and he didn’t discover the errors of his ways and the absolute bliss that was the female species until his balls dropped when he was about eleven (he said it was nine to show off, until he realized that was really stupid). Even after discovering the wonders that girls contained, most of his friends were still boys, and he never really thought that was weird until, well, he actually realized it was the case. Girls were nice, yeah; they were sweet, and soft, and pretty, and they always smelled so nice and had such lovely voices and just made him feel so good in his chest, and between his legs. He really did like them a lot. He thought so much about what it’d be like to run his fingers through a girl’s hair while she lay against him, stroking his chest as they whispered sweet nothings to each other. He’d daydream about holding a nice girl’s tits, and watching her blush and fluster and silently urge him to squeeze a little harder and to touch her a little lower. He thought about girls on their period a lot, too, and he thought about how their pussies must have smelled, and he thought about girls pissing in the toilet a lot, but the thing that was strange about his sexuality was that he never had a girlfriend. He liked girls, but he’d rather spend time with boys he liked more.

If a girl was his friend, he’d treat her like she was a girl; he’d make sex jokes around her just to watch her get flustered and laugh when she got mad, but he never meant the things he said. He’d do stereotypically boyish things around her in a subconscious attempt to impress her, but he didn’t think he was ever serious about his feelings when he’d asked a girl out, which he did twice, and both times the girl said no. He felt like he was just having fun, like it wasn’t something to commit to, like he was playing a game, like a relationship with someone else wasn’t serious. He knew what his type was: quiet, pretty, smart, funny. A girl he could look out for who’d laugh at his lame jokes. He liked long black hair and a thin, delicate frame--traditional Japanese princess look, you know?--but he also liked American chicks with their massive tits and asses, and Mexican girls were really nice, too. Still, if there was a girl at school he liked, he’d never seriously think about dating her. He’d honestly rather spend time with boys he liked more. There was one exception, but…

When Yosuke realized that was how he felt about the situation when Kou teased him about never seeing a girl’s underwear and when Daisuke gave him a warm, reassuring smile about it, he initially chalked it up to just being a young, dumb kid, which was entirely within logic and reason. Of course he wanted to just coast through things, and of course he didn’t have the capacity for a meaningful romance with someone else. He was too immature for it, and as much as he liked to act like a guy who had it all together, even he knew he wasn‘t as grown up as he liked to think of himself as. He half-assed his work at Junes all the time when he knew no one was watching, and he’d always copy off Souji’s work whenever he didn’t know the answer, or feel like trying. He was a hard worker when he felt there deserved to be effort placed into it, however, and when he wasn‘t too tired to be bothered. He was reliable, too, despite being selfish and lazy at times. On top of that, he was also a good friend, and valued the bonds he’d made in Inaba that actually meant something to him, even before the transfer student arrived and helped him form new ones and appreciate them even more. Even considering these things, Yosuke assumed he didn’t want a relationship with a girl because, well, he just didn’t, and that‘s wasn‘t necessarily a bad thing. He didn’t have the potential for it yet, and he was too young to understand it and appreciate it, and he didn’t want to dedicate so much time and money for one person to be happy. Besides, he was too busy hanging out with Souji every chance he got. That was enough for him, and the last thing he needed was some girl getting in the way of him and his best guy.

Although he’d known Chie and Yukiko longer and better than he’d known Souji, he still wanted to spend all his time with the transfer student, focus all his leisure and sincerity on him. He didn’t know why, no matter how much he thought about it, but Souji made him happy. He made him happier than anyone he’d ever known before, any girl he thought was hot, or any boy that made him question himself. Souji was a good friend, and he was really understanding, and knew just how to deal with other people to make them feel content and secure and just good. He didn’t have any issues he pushed onto him, he didn’t take anything out on him, and he didn’t have annoyingly low self-esteem. He had things together, and he had confidence, even if he was bashful at times. He was a nice guy, and he was the only person Yosuke really wanted in his life after a certain point, even if that amount of devotion was a little weird and heavy. Yosuke just cared more about a buddy than some girl. A pretty face had nothing on a shoulder to lean on, was his reasoning. That was a good way to think, too. Bros before hoes.

Kou teased him again about not having a girlfriend, and he asked if Souji’s pussy was really that good. That was when Yosuke started piecing things together in his mind, and when he started getting scared. Kou had a brash sense of humor sometimes, and a brash personality in general, so Yosuke would have just dismissed it as him being a brat like he always did until he realized it settled with him in an uncomfortably comforting way. He was about to yell at him until Daisuke did, and before he could stop his mouth from running, he told Daisuke it was okay in a melancholy tone. He didn’t know why he forgave Kou, or stopped Daisuke from chewing him out, because what he’d said was--he meant, it was really--it wasn’t exactly--it just wasn’t his business, okay? Well, maybe he was just tired. Maybe that was why he didn’t get defensive when he’d made that joke about him and Souji. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood for Kou’s shitty sense of humor, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood to listen to him and Daisuke bicker like a married couple. Maybe he just didn’t want to hear it, because--

Because he was in denial. Maybe. He guessed.

He jerked off regularly enough, since he was a healthy young man, but he didn’t always have a good supply of porn to satisfy his urges and give him something nearly-physical to look at or flip through or watch while he tried to increasingly prove his sexuality to himself, which meant most of his sessions involved his own fantasies about what he thought that he thought was hot. He’d prep himself up and start groping and tugging at his balls as he thought about a girl he saw wearing leggings and flip flops, and you could see every curve of her ass, and you could see how nice and hot her little toes were. He’d think about being able to grab her ass and hold all of it in his hand, and think about licking her feet and sucking on each individual digit, and only in his fantasies would a girl let him get passed second base. He really, really liked the thought of fucking a girl on her period, but then she’d get pregnant, wouldn’t she? His dick would probably smell afterwards, too. But, shit, if he were fucking her and she said it’d be okay to cum inside--that she wanted him to cum inside, that it’d make her happy--

Eventually, at some point, he began to get bored with the brilliance of his creativity, and strayed away from safe fantasies. He strayed away from scenarios of coercing pretty, shy girls into sucking his dick or giving him a hand job on the train to and from school (even though Inaba was so small that one could easily get to where they were headed via walking), and began to imagine something else. What that something else was, exactly, he wasn’t really sure. He wasn’t sure when the progression of the morphing of a sweet girl into something of a hybrid with a dick instead of a pussy began, and he wasn’t sure when exactly he began imagining her with balls, too, and no chest, and short hair. And even then, he was still pushing it aside and dismissing it as nothing.

He really wanted a girl with a dick, he figured out in class one day. Yukiko would look so nice like that. He already thought she was the bomb, with a rocking body and the best personality a chick could have; needless to say, he was into her. He didn’t want to think about Saki-senpai in that context, because it felt disgusting and sociopathic of him considering the circumstances, but if nothing had happened to her, and he was still blissfully unaware of her true feelings while the two of them were both okay, then he’d think she’d look cute with a little dick, too. Saki-senpai’s would be small, and have a little excess foreskin, and her balls would be so smooth and cute. That was horrible of him, though, to even begin to entertain any sort of justification for that fucked up fantasy, and he grimaced in class and felt like he was going to be sick, and that he ought to commit suicide from dishonoring her like that right on the spot, and that his friends would approve of it and talk shit about him when they found out he was imagining a dead female classmate that he genuinely thought he loved with a dick.

Yukiko was right there, though, and that was fine. Well, no, not really, it definitely wasn’t fine, but no one could really read his thoughts, and it’s not like they were going to be put on display again any time soon, and it was hell of a lot better since he‘d actually prevented Yukiko‘s death. Aw, geez, he was going to start depressing himself. Well, at least he was accepting these thoughts, probably. At the very least, in any case, he was accepting that he thought dicks were hot, but only if they were on girls. He thought about Yukiko keeping it as a secret, and that was cute enough on its own. Maybe she’d invite Chie over and tell her she had something to show her, something important, something embarrassing that she trusted her best friend with the burden of knowing. Oh, man, that was really cute. Yukiko standing in her room while her parents were asleep, blushing brightly, lifting up her skirt and showing off her panties and the cute little bulge in them. What if she was already hard, regrettably enjoying the idea of another girl discovering this thing about her, this disgusting, humiliating thing, and further entertained the idea of it being her best friend, who’d seen the best and the worst of her? Chie would be flustered, too, and would sputter and hesitate, not knowing what to say when she sees the tip of Yukiko’s foreskin poking through her black, sheer panties, maybe even a little pre accumulating at the top.

‘Chie,’ Yukiko would say, in a heated voice. ‘Please, don’t hate me for this. It’s--it’s like this, for you. I want you to see me like this.’ Yukiko would pull her panties down all the way to reveal the whole bouncing length of it, and it’d be pretty and slender just like her, and it’d be clean-shaven, too, and her balls--oh, fuck, Yukiko’s balls. Her balls would be the nicest little weight in your hand, and they’d be so smooth, and in one sack with a little seam down the middle, not one of those nasty wrinkly elephant hide ones. So smooth, so pretty. Yosuke wanted Chie to have them in her mouth. Yosuke wanted to have them in his mouth.

Yukiko masturbating in front of Chie, showing off her penis, was enough to make’s Yosuke’s own cock throb, which was even shittier of him considering they were literally right next to him (well, Yukiko was a little further up). Spreading her legs for her friend with her panties around her ankles, laying out on her bed, slowly stroking her dripping member and doing her best to be brave and meet her friend’s eyes. Chie would be completely shocked, and not have any idea what to do, or say, but she knew she loved seeing her friend’s penis like that. Erect, hungry, with the foreskin pulled back. Yukiko would be telling her how happy she is for Chie to be seeing it, to be seeing her in such a situation, and maybe she’d tell her she could touch it, too. Yukiko might like having her ball sack stretched, or maybe she’d press her own fingernail into the urethra, or maybe she’d stroke her own taint like it was a pussy, pressing against it, acting like she was fingering it. She’d be showing herself off, and she’d ask Chie if she liked it, if she liked seeing this part of her. Chie would be aroused, but she wouldn’t know what to do, or to say. Her best friend had a penis, and was masturbating in front of her! That sounded like a really weird hentai title. ‘I Can’t Believe My Best Friend’s Penis is This Cute!’ Holy shit, now that he mentioned it, that girl in that one show--

‘Chie,’ Yukiko would say, again. ‘Please,’ she’d beg. ‘Please, take a closer look. I want you to see this, this thing of mine.’

‘Yukiko, I don’t know,’ Chie would hesitate. After a few moments of being under Yukiko’s heated, pleading gaze, she’d approach her, and nervously reach a hand out to begin stroking her friend’s cock. ‘I-it feels so strange,’ she’d say. ‘It feels so--so nice.’ She’d experiment by reaching out to grab at her balls, to hold those in her hand, squeezing them and bouncing them a little to feel the weight of them. ‘Your balls are so smooth, Yukiko.’

Yukiko would give her a nervous little smile. ‘Do you like them? They aren’t too big, are they?’

Yukiko with big balls would be so cute. She was such a sweet, nice girl, and having something grotesque like a man’s penis was already a pain, but even better was giving her nice, big, heavy balls. Nothing too big, though, but realistically big. Smooth, nice, warm. ‘No, no, not at all!,’ Chie would reassure her, and then move both hands towards groping them and massaging them as if they were tiny breasts. ‘They feel so good in my hand, do--do they feel good for you? Should I squeeze them?’

Yukiko would gasp, and lean back on her bed a little, spreading her legs even more. ‘P-please, if you wouldn’t mind,’ she’d say. ‘And, could you maybe--put one in your mouth?’

Wait, if it was okay, which it wasn’t, for Yukiko to have a dick, why couldn’t he imagine someone else with one, too? Yukiko turned him down when he’d asked her out, so why did Chie have to be the one having all the fun? He turned a glare her way as she was paying attention to the lecture that day, unaware of the bitterness and jealousy brewing in Yosuke’s uncharacteristically unstable mind over an immature, irrational non-reason. It wasn’t fair for Chie to be able to slip one of Yukiko’s balls into her mouth and tug and suck, or to feel Yukiko’s long dick pound and pierce against her organs. Why couldn’t he imagine Souji as a girl with a dick?

He groaned a little and exhaled through his nose as he focused on the back of Souji’s head. Chie turned around, and gave him a curious look, and she was probably going to ask if he was okay after class. Hell, no, he wasn’t okay.

Souji was his best friend in the whole world, the best friend he’d ever had. They shared so many good times together, and just as many precious moments, to the point where Kou would tease him for being so devoted to him like he was a puppy for always wanting to talk to him and see him and be talked to and seen by only him. Souji understood him better than anyone, and he’d confessed so many things to Souji, and vice versa. Souji was a good friend, and he cared about him, and sometimes, when Yosuke thought about him, his heart would start pounding harder, and his stomach would feel tense, and his cheeks would feel cold and tight, and his vision would go weird. Sometimes, he got a little too excited being able to see Souji. Sometimes, he wanted to sit too close to Souji when they hung out in one of their rooms, alone. Why couldn’t he imagine Souji as a girl with a dick?

Because it was boring, and it wasn’t what he wanted. Souji with a vagina was just weird. He rubbed his forehead and let out another quiet groan when he realized he was in deep fucking shit.

Well, okay. Maybe he was into his best friend. Maybe, not definitely, but maybe. Was that really so bad? Was there really something wrong with it? Well, yes, there was, otherwise Yosuke wouldn’t be so tormented by the realization that there was a chance, however small, that he was into dudes, but it made sense for him to be into the guy that was closest to him right now, should that be the case. For one, fucking in the ass was unsanitary, required lots of prior preparation, and you absolutely needed a condom unless you wanted your dick to rot away and fall off your body. Second of all--well, uh--well, dudes just weren’t chicks! Guys were your friends, they were the people you went to if you had a problem, they were the ones you could relax with and have a good time with. Girls could be good friends, too, but they don’t get you the way a guy does. They don’t understand how you feel, or what makes you tick, because--because they’re just different. That’s why you have romance with them, to have a relationship with them that you couldn’t have with a guy. You don’t need a romance with a guy because they have absolutely everything else you’d need from a relationship. That made sense and wasn’t sexist or bigoted or defensive, right?

Right?

Maybe he was just sexually starved, maybe. Maybe he just needed someone to fool around with, and that‘d get his mind off of it. Guys fooled around with one another all the time, right? Without actually being--like that? Maybe the person he wanted to fool around with was Souji, since the two of them were such good friends, and since Yosuke was so fond of him. Yosuke loved Souji, from the bottom of his heart, b-but as a friend! Every waking thought was of Souji, just because he wanted to see him that day, and to be able to laugh and have fun and maybe share more sweet memories. Souji meant a lot to him, and maybe he didn’t want Souji to be some weird pseudo-transsexual in his fantasies because he actually respected him, and didn’t want any aspect of him to change just to suit his needs. Souji wouldn’t be there if he was a girl.

Still, Souji with a pussy would be pretty hot. Holy shit, that would be so hot. Yosuke pressed his face against the desk and completely ignored everything the entire last paragraph said, and began to figure out a method in order to figure out what his feelings were, and why he was having them.

“Hey.” He felt his head being poked, and Chie whispering while the teacher wrote something on the board. “You okay? You’re acting a little funny.”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to go use the bathroom. Aw, man, why did this have to happen in the middle of King Moron‘s class?!”

“Ew, gross! You’re so nasty sometimes, Yosuke! How can you even deal with him when he acts like this?”

He felt Souji shrug in his seat.

The only person he knew that was gay probably hated him for making fun of him for being gay, but if Yosuke was going to be true to himself, which he wasn’t despite various lessons telling him the importance of such, he would think that Kanji and him shared more traits than they thought, considering that they both didn’t really want to accept that they liked men, however small that interest and attraction may have been. Kanji would always say, “W-well, it’s not that I like guys, it’s just that I’m scared of girls,” or, “It’s not a matter of liking guys or girls, it’s a matter of being afraid of rejection.” Yosuke knew just as well as anyone that Kanji wanted a bunch of strange men to grab at him and force him into an alleyway and turn him into a sex slave, probably. That’d be pretty hot, though. Imagine Souji with the hands of strangers all over his arms and legs and chest and hips, groping him and breathing on him and calling him a pretty little thing. Oh, God, Souji with a pussy in that situation would be so hot, with all that liquid seeping out of him and staining his legs and looking like he‘d pee himself. Girls, uh, get that wet, right?

Needless to say, he decided that after school, or on a Sunday when there was nothing to do, he’d head on over to the textile shop to see Kanji and talk to him about his predicament. Kanji knew what it was like to like men, and maybe he could help clear up some of the thoughts he’d been having. He wasn’t a pervert, and as stated previously, he didn’t think very much about sex or anything like that, but hell, Yukiko with a dick was so hot to think about that everything just spiraled out of control, and he began thinking more and more about his feelings for Souji. Maybe he seriously was just a good friend, and Kanji would be able to help him out with the conflict he‘d been experiencing with his emotions. Hopefully.

“--uh.” They were alone in Kanji’s room, with all the excess fabric from everything stored away and things looking surprisingly neat. There were a few things here and there strewn about and scattered on Kanji’s desk, but his bed was made, and there wasn’t nearly as chaotic of a mess as Yosuke had been anticipating. He guessed working in a bunch of clutter wasn’t a good idea, huh? Yosuke had felt tense in his decision, since he knew Kanji’s sexuality still made him uncomfortable, but maybe it made him uncomfortable for more suppressed reasons. He was also worried that he didn’t know Kanji well enough, making this weird, but the two of them were friends, and he’d saved his life, for crying out loud. He practically owed him this! He explained his situation to him, from as far back as he could remember thinking that way, to where his masturbation fantasies began to deviate, and when he became aware of liking his friend like that, and also Souji’s pussy. He was considerate enough to not go into intricate details about any of it, but he painted a few colors here and there to get the point across and to make it really stick with Kanji. It took a lot of courage to even approach him, so maybe he went a little overboard with trying to cover up and ignore his cowardice.

“So? What do you think, do you think this makes me gay?”

“You’re not--are you making fun of me, or something?” Kanji just looked uncomfortable and confused, like a joke flew over his head, and he refused to look in Yosuke’s direction. A little pink was forming on his cheeks, and Yosuke wasn’t really sure why. “I mean, my feelings aren’t hurt, or nothing, I just--well, I don’t really get it. Why’re you telling me this? I don’t give two shits if you get off to futas, or whatever. It‘s a little weird that you imagine your friends like that, though.” He didn’t sound angry; in fact, his voice was soft, just confused.

“Come on! I’ve never had a girlfriend before, don’t you think there’s a reason for that?! There’s a reason I like hanging out with guys more than girls, I mean, listen to what I just said! Don’t I sound like a misogynistic prick, or something?!”

“Well,” Kanji deliberated and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, a little? You just sound like a guy to me, dude. I don’t really know why you’re here, maybe you’ve never had a girlfriend before because girls don’t like you.”

“Don’t lump me into the same boat as you, man! Girls like me a lot, alright! I wanna know if I’m gay or not, doesn’t that make me sound gay?”

“Wh-what boat?! Man, I don’t even want a girlfriend, why do you care so much if you’re gay or not? Yeah, you like the leader, that’s--that’s cool, man, I get it. You got good taste. But you sound like you spent more time thinking about Yukiko with a dick than--”

Yosuke groaned in defeat and fell back onto Kanji’s bed, rubbing his eyes and holding his head in despair. “You’re not listening to me at all! I just want to know if I’m into guys, or if it’s just him, or if it’s not even that, that I’m just desperate, or confusing it for something else. There’s gotta be a way to know for sure, dude, you of all people have to know.”

Kanji looked even more uncomfortable, holding his arms crossed and close to his chest as he continued to refuse to look at Yosuke. His leg was bouncing a little from where he sat in his chair at his desk, and the anxiety was affecting Yosuke. He made a sound that was akin to clearing his throat, and Yosuke looked up and could see there was sweat forming on his neck. He started stammering, trying his hardest to find the words, and Yosuke could tell he really didn’t want to be there. He was getting annoyed.

“Come on, dude, spit it out.”

“W-well,” he articulated, “I don’t really like what you’re implying about me, a-and I don’t like your attitude about it, neither!” His voice started raising and cracking a little, like it did whenever he got defensive. “But--you’re right.” He dropped his nervous posture and relaxed, and finally looked at Yosuke, with a look of defeat and acceptance. “I, of all people, know what it’s like to be confused about that sort of thing. It’s scary, isn’t it. To not know what you are, to not know if you’re normal or not. To not know why you get these feelings around guys, and why you’re not getting them around girls. You just--feel so safe around dudes, and it’s scary. Right?”

Yosuke’s expression was that of disgust and worry, and now it was his turn to give Kanji a dodging glance. “Yeah, can you, uh, not be--weird like that?”

“What the hell, man! I’m fucking pouring my heart out here for you and sympathizing with you, and now you’re gonna be that guy?!”

“What was your idea?,” he asked, completely ignoring the fuming, excitable boy in front of him. He sat up with his legs tossed over the side of Kanji’s bed, leaning back on his hands, relaxing, and Kanji saw this and looked away again after tensing out of that quick burst of anger and calming down.

“You wanna know what makes you gay, right?” He swallowed, and his face was growing even pinker than it had been before. “I can only think of one way to figure out if you like dudes like that.”

There was something in his voice, a sort of nervousness and uncertainty, that Yosuke didn’t like and that he didn’t trust. It also had a sense of finality that made his skin crawl; it made Yosuke’s eyes widen, and his throat tighten up, and his stomach begin to feel tense and fluttery like it did whenever he thought of the possibility of him liking the way Souji talked to him a little more than he ought to. In the back of his mind, he knew what Kanji was talking about. In the back of his mind, he knew why he had gone there, and what he was expecting, and what he was aware of wrestling out of him. He knew why he was there, but he refused to accept it. He wanted to continue the front that he’d held up since he got there, but it was growing harder and exhausting him as the truth became more conscious and prevalent in his mind. He accepted to himself that he was there for a reason, but he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“You sure that’s the only way?,” he asked, exasperated, and trying to seem like he wasn’t expecting it, or had been.

“It’s the only way I can think of, dude. Either this, or ask him out yourself. I don’t mind helping you with this, either, like I said, since I know what you’re going thro--”

“Alright, alright, just get over here, and--what, what are you gonna do? You’re not gonna put anything in me, are you? B-because I don’t know if I can go that far!” Yosuke cut him off, because he wanted to get this over with as quickly as he could, and because hearing Kanji‘s voice for some reason made him feel weirder and weirder the more he spoke. He didn’t want to hear it, he didn’t want to think about being there, being in that situation, being with Kanji. He didn’t want it to be real. He was worried he sounded to eager, though, and wasn’t rejecting it enough.

Kanji furrowed his brow and let out a little annoyed huff at Yosuke’s insensitivity and internalized homophobia as he approached the bed and reached into the drawer of the night stand next to it. Yosuke had scrambled into a corner and huddled there, like Kanji was going to assault him and hurt him, and his eyes were wide and focused on the searching hands. What was he going to pull out? A condom, lube? Oh, god, please let it be neither of those, Yosuke was too scared and young to give up his ass virginity to some punk delinquent, especially one that was younger than him! That was humiliating to imagine! What if it was something worse? What if it was a dildo, and not just any dildo, but one of those massive, bumpy, sharp ones he saw online? How the hell was he going to fit that in his ass?! And besides, how would having a horse dildo in his ass mean he liked guys? Souji didn’t have a horse dildo, Souji had a hot pussy!

What Kanji ended up pulling out from the drawer wasn’t what Yosuke was expecting at all. It was a black piece of fabric, with a string attached to it--a blindfold. He blinked, a little taken aback, and picked up the fabric to make sure it was what it was. “What, uh, what’s this?”

“I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want, or anything that freaks you out, alright? I’m not a rapist, so calm down.” He was practically forcing himself to look at Yosuke as he rested one knee on the bed, the first step towards closing the distance between them. Yosuke felt even more worried, especially since he still couldn’t really tell what the blindfold was for, or why Kanji tossed it to him.

“Yeah, but what is this? I thought you were gonna--”

“Look, I know this is scary for you, alright? I know, I--I know.” He held up a hand to cut him off, a sign asking Yosuke to hear him out. His voice was smooth, and low, losing the strain and uneasiness it had held since Yosuke had arrived, even if it was still a bit shaky, but who wouldn‘t be nervous in that sort of situation? He was calming down, and he knew what he was doing. Yosuke began feeling more relaxed, as well. “And I know you’re scared of how you feel, and you’re scared of someone like me doing whatever it is you’ll let me do, because you don’t want to like it. It’s scary. I get that. That’s why you don’t have to look at me and see it’s a guy doing those things to you.” He ended with a sigh, and glanced away again for a moment before meeting Yosuke’s eyes again, and then Yosuke’s mouth.

Yosuke pretended he hadn’t heard the sadness and rejection in the last thing Kanji had said, and he picked up the blindfold and held it in his hands and studied it. This was an incredible gesture, he’d assumed, for Kanji to be willing to go to such lengths to make sure he was comfortable. Kanji understood how he was feeling, Kanji knew what this feeling in his chest and head was like, and Kanji was being a good friend for helping him out like this after he‘d practically barged into his house and put it all on him, and Kanji was putting his comfort and security above everything else. He realized he was being a dick about this, and being a dick to Kanji. He was being demanding, but he wouldn’t even have the decency to look at Kanji when they fucked, or jerked each other off, or whatever it was Kanji was going to do, what they were going to do. He was doing this for another man, one they both knew rather well, and Kanji was just a placeholder, an experiment, an escape, and they both knew that. They both knew Yosuke was being selfish, and mean.

“Just, uh,” Kanji continued, when he saw Yosuke was faltering and hesitating again, “don’t--don’t call me by his name, if you call me anything.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he said it, and something was in his throat, so he swallowed and cleared it before saying the next thing louder, and a bit of a different tone. “A-and, uh. Be as rough as you want. A-and!” He ran his hand through his hair and struggled to speak, like it was physically hurting him to talk like this and to say those things. “Y-you can be mean as you want, too, just don’t--try to hurt my feelings, okay? I’ll kick your ass if you do, I mean it!”

Yosuke was a little overwhelmed by all of this, but he got the feeling that even though it made Kanji feel bad, he wanted Yosuke to wear that blindfold. It may have been a stretch, but something also told him that, maybe, Kanji wanted to be used like that. It was something in his voice, the way his face burned, the way he kept rapidly looking between Yosuke and the floor. Something he was doing with his hands, just--it was a feeling, and a strong feeling, at that. A feeling that Kanji liked that he was being used for someone else’s selfish reasons. A feeling that Kanji wanted this, and wanted it like this (except that Yosuke could be a little less inconsiderate). Why would someone want that, though? He didn’t really know what any of what Kanji had said meant, so he said nothing, because what were you supposed to say to any of that? He slipped the blindfold on over his eyes, and suddenly, he saw nothing. Everything was black, and he couldn’t see Kanji, or anything in Kanji’s room. He couldn’t see how close Kanji was, and he couldn’t see the anxious, apprehensive, excited look on his face. All he was aware of was the sound of their own breathing, his fear, and the feeling of Kanji leaning further on the bed. and soon hovering over him.

Kanji was there. He was right there. It suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks that he was alone in another guy’s room, and he was on that guy’s bed, and that guy was right on top of him, adding more stress and weight to the mattress, and breathing right above him, right on him. Kanji must have been so elated, to be able to see another guy like this, to be able to touch another guy and have him in such a compromising, intimate situation. He was hesitating; they were both scared. They were both scared of what this meant, of going through with it, of what the other was thinking. It was scary, and the gentle pressure of Kanji’s hand roaming his chest through his shirt felt too good, too real, and Yosuke couldn’t help but sigh. He laid out on his back on the bed, and Kanji was soon straddling his hips with either thigh on the outside of each of his. Yosuke was beginning to relax, mentally, but his body was still on edge, high on fear and worry. He didn’t like that he was responding so well from just having his chest rubbed, and he didn‘t like how defenseless and vulnerable he felt. He hated that it was a man that was touching him.

“I’ll suck your dick for you,” Kanji’s baritone voice rumbled and reverberated throughout Yosuke’s chest, and the words burned his ears and his face as his hands continued to roam the upper part of his torso, tracing his calloused fingers over his collarbone, and his throat. His touches felt so good. That was the first time Yosuke had ever been in that sort of situation with another human being, so he was frozen stiff, and didn’t know what to do, or what to say. He’d imagined it before, and he’d made out with people before, but he’d never been--well, alone like that with someone before. He let out a little noise, and stretched a little, and licked his lips, and shivered. That was the first time he’d ever been told something like that. That was the first time anyone had said something like that to him, offering to please him like that, and in such a sexy voice. Kanji’s voice was so sexy. The thought of that made Yosuke sick to his stomach.

Kanji’s breathing became more harsh as he began groping at Yosuke’s chest like he had a pair of tits, but gently, and Yosuke found that interesting. Kanji didn’t like chicks, did he. He leaned even further over him, to where their bodies were nearly connected, and he panted against the side of Yosuke’s neck, heated and aroused, and against his ear. Yosuke could feel that hot breath hitting him, and he tilted his head so he could feel more. “You got such a nice chest, senpai,” he breathed out, and Yosuke found himself making another noise, and found himself turning his head away completely. This was so much for him, this was too much for him. Kanji’s hands reached under his shirt and began massaging his pecs directly, and Yosuke’s breathing hitched and he jumped a little when a thumb traced over his sternum. He muttered a swear and tilted his head back more, and he began feeling Kanji kissing his neck, and licking his throat. He could feel those chapped lips pressing delicately against his skin, and he could feel that wet muscle stimulating nerves in a unique way, a way he’d never felt. He could feel his body being roamed, explored, and Kanji was tasting him, and doing what he could to get a nice reaction from him. Everything was so heightened without being able to see--would it all be the same if his primary sense hadn’t been taken away from him? God, this was scary. The worst part was how incredibly gentle he was being.

“Kanji--” He was going to tell him to stop, wasn’t he? He was going to say he didn’t like it, and he wanted him off, but it sounded desperate in other ways, in wrong ways, and his hands found a purpose by wrapping around the back of Kanji’s neck and head, scratching at his hairline, thumbing behind his ear. He couldn’t see him, but he could feel Kanji’s eyes on him, wide--no, not wide, probably lidded, and heavy. A crackling sound came from him when he felt the other boy’s lips on his collarbone, biting, nibbling, but soft enough not to leave any marks even in the event that they’d be covered. His lips suckled, and his teeth scraped, and Yosuke was stretching so much, and making the dumbest noises this early into it. This was a dream for Yosuke, this was an escape, and Kanji knew not to leave anything that would remind him anything had actually happened.

“I like straight guys, senpai,” his grated voice rose again, breathy, as he pulled back and away from the body he was so fixated on, the body he was asked to please. Yosuke was out of it, and he turned his head to face him as if he’d see him through the darkness of his blindfold. How stupid must he have looked? Kanji must have been sitting up, because he didn’t feel or sense his proximity, and his hands were fumbling with his jeans.

“--huh?” He didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t know what Kanji had meant. Honestly, he didn’t even really hear it at first. He was breathing so hard, and he wasn’t really sure why, but everything he tried to say came out soaked in pants. “W-why? Is that your type, or something?”

“Nah, not really my type, exactly.” He sounded amused, like there was a smile in his voice. Once Yosuke could feel the button and zipper become undone, he held in a sharp breath as Kanji began slipping them down, revealing his boxers, and then his dick. All the worry and tension came back, welling up and drowning him, and he was loosely aware of making little sounds, whimpers, whines, and his hands came back up to cover his eyes reflexively, even though Kanji already couldn’t see them. He was so scared, he was so absolutely scared, and Kanji’s gentle grip around his dick wretched another choked noise from him, and he found himself spreading his legs despite being so terrified. He didn’t want this to continue, but he didn’t want it to stop, either. He was so conflicted, and his fears and arousal were mixing into some lucid experience, and he didn’t know whether to cry or to buck shamelessly into Kanji’s hand from how fucking turned on he was. Kanji had been doing barely anything so far, but it was all too good to be true. This is what he’d thought about with Souji, what he wanted with Souji.

What was he even so scared of? He was still basically a kid, and hadn’t even jerked off with another guy watching porn together. What else was there? What else was holding him back, what did he need to face, what did he need to let go of? How could he relax? He was safe, and he knew that Kanji wouldn’t hurt him--Kanji may have acted all tough and rough, but he was really nice, just a bullied kid. Kanji wouldn’t hurt him unless Yosuke asked him to, and probably then, he still wouldn’t. Why was he so anxious, then?

Maybe he needed to admit to himself that he maybe liked it. Maybe.

“What is it, then?” Yosuke’s voice was still strained, and he was breathing so hard. The feeling of Kanji’s hand on his dick, stroking it slowly, delicately, and squeezing it a little at the head, was so good. He’d never had anything else rub his dick, not even one of those plaster vagina things, so it was incredible, even more so since the physical contact was the only thing he could focus on. Kanji was so good with his hands.

Maybe Kanji was licking his lips, because he made a weird sort of hum before responding. “I dunno, really.” He made a sound of strain as he began moving around, and Yosuke could feel the bed bouncing and creaking. He was no longer straddled on Yosuke’s legs, but he could still feel his hands on his hips and thighs. He couldn’t really tell where Kanji was, but he could feel that he was further down on the bed. Then he could feel his breath on his dick, and Yosuke sighed. “I dunno what it is. I mean, I have you like this right now, so I guess it’s not weird to say.” Something wet, slimy, and warm dripped onto his dick, and Kanji smacked his lips and started jerking him again. Kanji’s drool. Jesus Christ. “Uh, y-you don’t mind if I tell you, right?”

Tell him what? “No, I asked.” Why were they even having a casual conversation like this while Yosuke was half naked and his dick was about to go in this dude’s mouth? He supposed it was relaxing, and it took his mind off of what was going on. Shit, Kanji was good at this. He could tell how tense and scared he was. “You brought it up though, dude.” His own voice felt more like a whisper, and he still wasn’t “looking” at the man between his legs--or, next to his legs? Where was he? Nearby his legs. “Fuck,” he muttered, and tossed his head back with another sigh.

Kanji was smiling, he could tell. His hand was still at a leisurely pace, to make sure every centimeter of Yosuke’s six inch dick felt good, and had the right amount of pressure added to it. He was playing with his foreskin a little, and pressing a finger against his urethra. “Well, it’s weird, and I don’t think I ever told nobody before. You got a nice dick, too, man, really. But, uh, I--I like that they’re not into me, I guess. I like that they’re not into dudes, that they’re into chicks instead. That means they don’t like me, and don’t think I’m hot, and that they’re--they’re just using me, right? Just so they can get off. They like girls, so they talk to me like I’m one. I like that part the most.”

“That’s weird.” That was sort of hot. A strong guy like Kanji getting off to being talked down to, being talked to like he was a girl? The more Kanji spoke, the more relaxed he got, even if it was him talking about his fantasies, and what he wanted. He wanted a guy to be mean to him, and to use him, and to treat him like he wasn’t even a man, like he was there just for him to feel good. That was sort of hot. That was pretty damn hot. Yosuke found himself reaching down, blindly, looking for Kanji’s head so he could run his fingers through his hair. The blindfold was getting a little annoying at that point. “God, stop putting so much crap in your hair, it feels all dry and nasty.”

“I-it’s not from any product, it’s from bleaching it all the time!” His voice was raising and cracking; he was getting defensive, and it was a little cute.

“Then stop doing it, your hair’s probably gonna fall out.” He stroked the top of his head affectionately before pulling his hand back, to rest it by his own head. “You liked being talked down to, huh? I thought you were scared of girls, though. Is that why you like being talked to like one?”

“I already told you! I’m not scared of girls no more, I’m cool with them!” Now he was shouting, and if Yosuke hadn’t wanted to have his dick sucked, he would have started laughing. “Jesus! Now you’re just making fun of me. I knew this was a crappy idea.”

Kanji was smiling, and Yosuke was relaxed. Kanji’s lips touched the tip of his dick, and Yosuke could feel something solid and slimy--his tongue--licking up the pre he’d produced and slipping a little under his foreskin, like he was cleaning it. Fuck, he’d never had anything in there; it hurt a little, being stretched so much, but good god, it was incredible. Kanji’s hands were now gripping the base of his rod, and his teeth were grazing against the head, and the tongue was massaging and cleaning the inside of his foreskin, and Yosuke couldn’t see any of it. He couldn’t see the look on Kanji’s face, he couldn’t see his tongue stretching his foreskin, and he couldn’t see if his eyes were on him or not. They were probably closed in concentration. Or open, and enamored with the dick he was tasting.

“Your dick looks so good, senpai,” he said, giving a little suck to the head of it. That gave him a better image; Kanji was so entranced by what he held in his hands, another boy’s dick. His friend’s dick, a straight boy’s dick. He was licking it again, and Yosuke got the impression that he was pausing, hesitating, and that Yosuke was being stared at. He felt nervous and weird, because he couldn’t tell what Kanji wanted. There was no proof of this, of course, and maybe he was just licking it slowly so Yosuke would feel good, or maybe Kanji, himself, was still nervous. It was just a feeling he got. Nothing was certain.

“I don’t want to hear that from you,” he said. He said it softly, after a little sigh of pleasure, because he didn’t want to sound too mean. But that’s what he wanted, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have received that little confession. “I’m not into guys, I don’t wanna hear how much you like my dick.” It wasn’t a fantasy for him; he was denying it with all his heart. His hand went back down to stroke through Kanji’s destroyed hair, and he was getting impatient; aware that the story was already close to nine thousand words and just barely getting to the good stuff, he nudged his head a little, urging him to hurry it up. “Come on, this is taking forever. I’m being serious, too.”

Kanji clicked his tongue, but obliged. He ran his tongue along the underside of it for one last time before wrapping his lips around it, and slowly slipping it into his mouth. The wet, encompassing heat of Kanji’s mouth was amazing, better than anything Yosuke had ever imagined a blowjob would be like, better than anything he’d ever been told. His lips were so--so soft, surprisingly, and he didn’t feel his teeth like he had before, either. Was he experienced? Did he know what he was doing, or was Yosuke so completely absorbed with how good it felt, focusing exclusively on the physical sensation of it, that he couldn’t tell whether or not it was bad? It had just started, so Kanji was still going slow, delicately, carefully, and even that was fine. It was more than fine, it was great. Kanji’s mouth was so hot, and none of the heat was escaping, and the muscles and structure of his mouth were so soft, and his tongue was still on his dick, still licking him up, still massaging him. Kanji wasn’t taking the whole thing in, and was working his way up to being able to take at least just half of it. Was that normal?

God, he hated being a virgin, but maybe it was a good thing, because, Jesus, it felt so awesome. Both hands were in Kanji’s hair, massaging his scalp, and he was twitching his hips a little and breathing so hard and letting out embarrassing moans. “F-fuck, Kanji,” he forced out. He was swallowing huge gasps of air, and he wished desperately that he could see Kanji going down on him like that, that he could see another man doing so much to please him, to make him feel good. It’s not like anyone was making him keep the blindfold on, and he knew it’d be easier for him to accept what was happening if he had it on. Still, he wanted to see the look that was on Kanji’s face. He wanted to see how aroused the other guy was. He wanted to see if Kanji was hard or not.

Kanji began bobbing his head in a more hurried pace after a certain point, and Kanji seemed to know when that point was, whereas Yosuke didn’t have a clue. He didn’t care what made him suddenly pick up in speed, because that feeling around his dick was even better; feeling his lips move up and down his shaft while his tongue continued to lavish it, feeling even more saliva collect in Kanji’s mouth and even making him drool, and feeling the internal temperature of Kanji’s mouth heat Yosuke’s dick was better than anything he’d ever felt, probably in his entire life, and he had no idea how to replicate it for future reference. He didn’t know what he liked the most about it even: Kanji’s lips? His tongue, the way his cheeks felt sucked in to give him even more pressure? Was it the implications behind Yosuke being helpless and vulnerable, unable to see, and Kanji having total control, but still the submissive one? Or was it the act of it, the act of this tough guy satisfying both of their sick needs? The act of someone else pleasuring him like this, using their mouth as a thing exclusively to help him get off? Was it because Kanji was gay, and Yosuke thought himself as straight?

“Fuck, dude,” he gasped out, and began gripping Kanji’s hair. “You suck dick better than a girl.”

Of course, he didn’t know, otherwise. Kanji had no idea if this was Yosuke’s first time doing anything like this, but he made a little grunting noise, a choked little noise. So he really was like that, huh.

“It’s gross how good you are at this.” He tried to let out a laugh, but he was panting too hard, so he settled for grinning and licking his lips. “I bet you had to suck a lot of dicks, though, huh? Did some gross older dudes buy you for a few hours?” He arched his hips when Kanji made another noise around the cock in his mouth, and he bit his lip and had to pause before continuing as Kanji sped up the pace, again. “So are you admitting to it? You’re desperate for another dude, you’re gonna let some gross asshole buy you? Even you denied you were like that for a long time, were you doing it even then?” He was grinning. He was so good at this.

Kanji pulled away from him for a second, and he was panting, breathing hot air onto Yosuke’s dick and pressing little kisses to his shaft. “N-naw, I ain’t never let anyone buy me.” He actually took the effort to respond, to protest. God, that was hot. It must have been so embarrassing to say something like that.

Yosuke continued to run his fingers through his hair as he spoke to him. “Does that mean you’d do it for free, then? That’s even nastier.” He let out a little laugh, and, upon gaining further courage, brought a hand down to stroke at Kanji’s lips with his thumb. “Or maybe it means you’re not damaged goods. Bet you wish you had a guy who’d offer to pay you for something like this, huh? You think you got a market for guys looking for guys like you?”

Kanji wanted to have a conversation, because he’d only suck his dick while Yosuke was talking. Yosuke felt him move a bit, and make a little noise, before moving his lips along the penis while he spoke. “G-guys like me? What do you mean by that?” His voice was so quiet, Yosuke would have had to strain his hearing had his voice not been so coarse. He liked what Yosuke was saying.

“Come on, you know what I mean. A tough delinquent with no experience. I bet plenty of guys would think that was hot. Especially one who was in denial, curious about another guy, curious and,” he took a pause to let out a sigh, and to stretch his back out some more as Kanji’s lips were back around his dick. “D-desperate.”

“You think I’m desperate, senpai?” Did he like being called that?

“Hell yeah, I do. You wanna be a slut, but you don’t have anyone to fuck you. Or you’re too shy. Come on, there has to be a demographic for that. The cute thing’s pretty hot, not gonna lie.” They were both getting more confident; Kanji was sucking his dick even better than he had been, which earned him another lewd compliment from Yosuke, and Yosuke was sitting up a little, talking more clearly, and lifting his blindfold up with his thumb. Kanji’s lips looked so good wrapped around his dick, and Kanji was looking up at him with the neediest expression he’d ever seen on someone. He could see how he was laying now, too; he was on his side a little bit with his head and hands in Yosuke’s lap, and he was sporting a pretty impressive tent. Yosuke wondered if his tip was leaking. He wasn’t even going to deny that Kanji was hot, and that he wanted to see how hard he was. Would it be gay if he told him to take out his dick?

“Fuck, look at you, even.” Kanji had glanced away nervously when he saw Yosuke had lifted up the blindfold and was now looking directly at him, and Yosuke gripped his hair to turn him back towards him. “You have another guy’s dick in your mouth and you’re getting off on it. That’s so nasty. Even considering that, you’re too shy to look at him. What if you wore the blindfold instead, huh?” He was smiling now, still gingerly stroking Kanji‘s head, raking his hands through his hair, grazing the backs of his fingers along his heated cheeks, pressing his face a little further into his groin, wanting more of him in his mouth. Kanji let out another one of those groans he’d been making. “Why’d you even give that to me? I bet you wear it all the time, when you’re jerking off.”

“N-no, I don’t--”

“I bet you do.” Yosuke’s grin was playful, malicious, but affectionate. “No one else comes up here, since this is your first time doing something like this, so why else would you have it? You probably wear it every time you do it. I bet you touch yourself and think about a bunch of men having their way with you, all tied up and blindfolded. You’d probably fight against it in the beginning, but by the time the first guy has his dick in you, you’re begging for it like a little whore. You’re not even a person to them, just something they can use to get off. They’d call you mean things, too, really mean things, and you‘d probably thank them for it. Am I right?”

Kanji didn’t lift up that time to respond. He began bobbing his head harder, and deeper, and soon Yosuke found his dick pounding against the back of Kanji’s throat as he gripped his hair to hold him in place, like he was one of those men Kanji fantasized about. He was thrusting his own hips, too, and Kanji didn’t mind. Kanji was grunting like he was getting fucked; he was, in a way. Yosuke was fucking his mouth, his throat, and Kanji just gave him those needy eyes again. His face was so red, and his brows were upturned, and his eyes were glossy and lidded, and, fuck, he seriously looked like someone from one of those comics Yosuke would find online and read.

His voice was becoming unsteady again. “I-I bet you w-wanna dress like a girl for them, too, huh?” Kanji shook his head at that, so Yosuke changed his angle. For some reason, he got the feeling he meant it. “A-alright, fine. What if they told you to wear a bra and panties for them then, huh?” Kanji was breathing so much harder from his nose, and his hand began reaching down to rub himself through the front of his pants. That made Yosuke grin. He was so hard, so turned on, and he was touching himself and wanted to get off because of an older boy’s dick that was fucking his throat, and the degrading things he was being told. Being told what he wanted, having his desires uncovered, having his sexual fantasies be retold in detail. “You’d d-do anything those guys told you to, wouldn’t you. You’d f-feel so nervous putting something like that on, a-and when they found out that’s what you were wearing, th-they’d tease you for it, and call you a chick, and ask if you liked it, and--fuck, Kanji, I’m gonna--”

They hadn’t decided on what they would do in the event that Yosuke actually went along with this and saw it through to the end, meaning that upon Yosuke blowing his load, would he do it in Kanji’s mouth, on his face, or in his hand while Kanji watched and tried to reach the same happy ending as the boy he’d been servicing? He’d tasted his own spunk before, and it wasn’t half bad, but he certainly wouldn’t eat someone else’s cum willingly, probably, and considering that, considering Kanji’s feelings on the matter, he felt torn. Would he be curious and want to taste another man’s semen for the first time? Or was he not even into that, despite being so erotically submissive? It was rude in the first place to do it inside someone’s mouth--or was that just if you didn’t warn them?

He decided he’d leave it up to Kanji if he wanted to taste it afterwards or not, and he warned him, by giving his hips a few harder thrusts, thrusting directly into his throat--how was he not throwing up yet, god that was so fucking hot--gripping Kanji’s hair tight, and when he felt the first bit begin to shoot from his balls and through his urethra, he pulled the other’s head back sharply. He maintained a firm grip in his hair, and used his other hand to maintain a firm grip on his dick as he panted, painfully and desperately, and reached his orgasm and shot his cum all over Kanji’s face. All over Kanji’s wet, red, wanting face.

No one ever looked better after Kanji did, with his mouth wide open, lips wet and puffy, and semen covering his face. Yosuke’s semen. His dick gave another twitch before it became flaccid, and Yosuke was still stroking it a little as it died down.

The two of them were both breathing like they’d been running for hours, fighting for hours, and only one of them actually found relief. Yosuke rubbed his forehead with the back of his head, and sat up completely and moved back with his back against the wall and the headboard of the bed before swallowing and giving Kanji’s erection a glance. “Take it out and jerk off for me.”

Kanji stared at Yosuke before almost immediately going down and undoing himself so he could obey that command. He was leaking so much, and Yosuke tilted his head and gave it an admiring look. It was pretty average, which was cute, considering Kanji’s demeanor and disposition. It had a nice girth to it, a nice thickness, but it wasn’t too excessive, or even too long. It looked good, and it looked like it would feel good in your hand, too. Yosuke was so curious about Kanji’s balls, but Kanji was jerking his wrist like a maniac, absolutely desperate for his climax, and Yosuke didn’t even need to insult him or talk down to him to get him to cum. It happened pretty fast, pretty prematurely, and even that was cute.

Fuck. Kanji was so cute. The face he made as he came, the noise he made, the way he tilted his head back, and the way that even during that fit of ecstasy, of pure pleasure, he was still too shy to look at Yosuke. Yosuke watching him probably still made him nervous, as much as it turned him on. Yosuke looked back at his lap as soon as the streams from Kanji’s cock were done shooting, and the weight and gravity of the situation set in with him. Kanji was covered with semen--with his own semen, and with Yosuke’s.

They were both quiet, sans their dying panting, and Kanji got up to reach for a box of tissues that sat on his coffee table. He had to use a few to clean up his face, and his hands and his dick, and one thing he did, a small gesture, was a lot to help Yosuke come to terms with what they had just done much easier than he would have had Kanji’s attitude been the same as it was during their--what was that? An encounter?

“Ugh, feels so nasty once it actually touches your face. Loved the idea of it, senpai, but man, this feels so gross.”

Kanji’s back was turned to him as he stood up, and Yosuke was staring at his dick, still in his hands. They were quiet for a while, and Yosuke wasn’t sure what sort of silence it was. He didn’t know if it was uncomfortable, or reflective, or tense, or what. He knew they were both aware of the heaviness in the air, and then, he realized it was a contemplative silence.

Yosuke honestly didn’t know what to say. It felt good, and it was really hot. It was hot that Kanji was doing it, and saying those things and imagining them while having his dick sucked was even hotter. Imagining all those men molesting and fucking another man, a man he knew, a man he knew like Kanji, and Kanji loving it--but this wasn’t about him, no, he had to get that image out of his head before he got distracted and grew hard again. It was about Yosuke. It was about how it felt to be like that with another man, and if he could continue it. If he’d be happy to do it for Souji, for his partner--n-not like that. It was about whether he felt safe having done it, safe with himself, with his own resolution. It was about whether or not he could see himself doing it again in the future, happily.

Did he enjoy it enough? Did it offend him, did it threaten his sexuality and his state of being? Could he admit that he had enjoyed it to the extent that he did? Could those words formulate in his head, and could he say them? Could he say them and mean it?

“It was pretty good,” he managed, after clearing his throat. He stared at the floor at the foot of the bed before looking up at Kanji, aversion in his eyes. He suddenly didn’t want to be there again, and he felt as bad as he did when he got there, and told Kanji about his confusion.

This made him feel even more confused. He sighed, almost a whine, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Yeah, I liked it.”

“You’re not acting like you did.” Please don’t talk with that tone in your voice, Yosuke’s already stabbing himself in the gut.

“Well, I did, as much as I don’t want to say it. Yeah, yeah, I did.” His posture relaxed as he felt the knife easing out of his gut little by little, and he could look at Kanji with certainty. He had a blush on his cheeks still, and his eyes told him he was surprised, and a little happy, with Yosuke’s resolve. “You’re not gonna make me say what I liked about it, though, are you?”

“N-no.” Kanji looked away again, and rubbed the back of his head with his hand. Yosuke wanted to say he was cute. Yosuke wanted to say a lot of things, but he knew he never would. “I’d probably beat your head in if you even tried to, to be honest. Shit like that’s embarrassing. Don’t mind hearing it while we’re in the act of it, but that’s different. Hell, ‘course that’s different! What the hell am I saying, I’m sitting here babbling like an idiot.” Don’t talk like that, it’s making Yosuke feel even weirder.

He turned to face Yosuke completely, and Yosuke didn’t like the expression he had on his face. He didn‘t like the way it made his gut wretch. “You, uh, probably wanna wash up and get going now, don’t you. I mean, I’d be all up for hangin’ out, so I’m not trying to get rid of you.”

“No, it’s--it’s fine, I get it, I feel the same way.”

They were quiet again, and Yosuke made no move to get up and leave, because the question they were both still there for still hadn’t been answered.

Kanji saying it first made it less awkward. Kanji proposing that they do whatever it is that they had done made things less awkward. Kanji talking him through it, responding to what Yosuke was saying while he went down on him, made things less awkward. What awkwardness remained was still within Yosuke’s decision, within his own feelings. Kanji hadn’t helped with that. Kanji hadn’t helped make things clearer, hadn’t told Yosuke what he needed to know. Were his feelings for Souji legitimate, then? Was liking dick girls just an escape, or an excuse, or was he trying to make up for his insecurities with being so fond of his closest friend? Would these feelings go away, then?

Or would new ones arise, making things even more complicated?

Did he even like Souji like that? Did he like any guy like that?

“Getting my dick sucked isn’t gay enough, is it?”

Yosuke had a sincere expression on his face as he proposed the idea, and Kanji looked anxious, excited, even, with his eyebrows risen before furrowing them in their usual grimace with a stutter. He looked like he wanted to agree, like he wanted to continue what it was they were doing, and prolong any answer from Yosuke, but Yosuke was too stupid and selfish to say what was on his mind, to be open, to admit what he was feeling, to admit just how much he liked it.

“I think maybe--we should--l-let’s let it sit for a couple days and talk about it later, senpai.”

Or was he still making excuses for himself, still living in denial?


End file.
